


I'll Be Struttin' My Stuff

by aflowerchildsdreams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Twerking, jealous lou, miley cyrus - Freeform, sms (bangerz), wrecking ball - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:19:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aflowerchildsdreams/pseuds/aflowerchildsdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is Miley Cyrus for Halloween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Struttin' My Stuff

I'll Be Struttin' My Stuff

 

"Are you sure that this is the best idea?" Gemma asks, spinning around to face you from the couch in your hotel room. You throw your towel at her, and shake out your wet hair like a dog. Its funny really that Gemma is actually protesting your Halloween costume, she's usually all for your shenanigans. 

"It's Halloween, Gem. I'm not dressing in drag and doing the hula."

She snorts at you, clearly trying not to show her amusement at your ace lion king reference. Stupid Gemma, never recognizing your comedic genius. What is the point of even having a sister if she won't even laugh at your corny jokes?

Sighing, she uncrosses her legs, stands and tugs down her skirt before making her way over to you and ruffling your damp curls. 

"Fine. But if you insist on doing this, I'm going to fix your hair. You can't even manage to find a brush most days, much less muster up the dexterity to accomplish pigtails." 

You roll your eyes, but let her lead you back over to the couch without much protest, where you flop down on the floor and settle yourself between her feet. The back of the couch is digging into your spine, and you make a definitive vow that, if you make it up out of this position without looking like a decrepit old man, you'll never sit on a floor in Japan ever again. As if thats something you find yourself doing everday, and not just once or twice in a blue moon. 

"So," She asks, running a pink sparkly brush through your hair. Where did she even GET that? "What are the other boys dressing as, Cyrus?"

"Em," you answer, wincing in pain as she catches a snarl and yanks mercilessly. "I dunno. All I know is that Niall, Zayn, and Louis bought a half gallon of white face paint each. I think Liam said he's going as a Manchester United player, though"

"So you took it upon yourself to be the scandalous one?"

"Well, you know me. Always causing mayhem as they say." 

"Oh, I know you alright." she says, putting up your last pigtail, and slapping you gently on your shoulder to signal that she's finished. "you're that kid who's been a pain in my ass for the last nineteen years. Seriously, I didn't even want a brother." 

You wrinkle your nose at her and then pop a kiss down on her cheek. "You know that I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you Gem, don't lie."

"Yeah, yeah. I love you, whatever. You should probably go finish getting ready then." 

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks and you glance at the clock with a look of mild terror. Shit. The lads were going to be knocking on the door any minute, and who KNEW how long it was going to take to put on that spandex.

\------------

"Ow Ow" Zayn catcalls at you as you throw open the door. 

"Yeah, mate, if I were gay, i'd totally chase that ass." Liam says with a smirk. Niall almost chokes on his laughter, and behind him, you can feel the heat of Louis' gaze as it sweeps up and down your half naked body. You duck your head, and pretend that you don't see it, but you can feel yourself flushing hot from the inside out. Louis looks downright fuckable when he's got that look in his eye, and now is not the time. You've got some twerking to do. 

\------------

It takes you exactly two and a half seconds to scope out the alcohol in the room when you arrive at the party, and about thirty more to have a full cup in your hand. The whole room is alive, buzzing bright and full, sweaty bodies twisting together in every direction. It seems that everyone made it, and honestly, after the grueling months spent working your ass off on tour, you want little more than to get wasted and have a little fun. 

It appears the rest of the guys had the same idea, you note as you spot everyone but Louis' chatting together in a corner and nursing their own full cups. You're just starting to really wonder where Louis' had gotten to, when a familiar voice calls to you from a few feet away. 

"Oi, Styles" Grimmy says, pushing his way through a tangle of limbs to get to you. "Damn, Harry. You're making me see Miley Cyrus in a whole new light." 

You're on your second drink now, just beginning to feel the familiar rush of heat in your cheeks. You're not drunk, but you're well on your way, and you're definitely loose enough now to completely let your guard down. Flirting with Grimmy has been an onging thing between the two of you, there's never any real intention behind it, but since he'd tried to pick you up at a bar during your xfactor days, it's been something that you do just to pass the time. Most guys spend their free time taking the piss out of each other, but you and grimmy, well you just get intimate. 

"Hmm, you like that do you, love?" You ask conspiratorially, sliding closer to him and running a red polished foam finger down his chest, almost losing it when his breath hitches beneath his shirt. "How bout you be my Robin Thicke?" 

"Oh no, no no no. Get off of me you cheeky little shit. I will not be swayed by you, you little harlot, you."

You cant just let things go there though, you have to take it one step further, so you turn right around, stick your ass out, and twerk as best as your nude circulation blocking spandex booty shorts will allow. 

\-----------

By half twelve, you're sufficiently drunk, and you're pretty sure that you've twerked on everyone in the room. Twice. You still haven't caught even a glimpse of Louis', and you mean to ask Zayn about it, but somehow you forget. When you remember again, Grimmy and Josh are giggling at someone singing badly, and through your drunken haze, you recognize your own voice. You think you're half way through the chorus of wrecking ball when Liam, laughing so hard that he has tears in his eyes, grabs you by the shoulder and leads you gently toward the door and outside. 

"Much as I love your heart-wrenching rendition, love, Niall and I decided that if we had to hear another second of it, we'd have to kill ourselves. So naturally, to save us a lot of trouble, and our mums a lot of heartache, we decided it best that we shut you up." 

He turns you around and pushes you gently down on the stoop, then drops beside you, his breath coming in clouds, stark white against the chilly, dark November sky. 

Being in the fresh air clears your head a little and you almost crack up, imagining how crazy you must've looked back there. Liam grins at you and bumps your shoulder with his. He's a little drunk too, and youre not sure why, but sitting there, quietly staring at the stars with your best friend is of the most calming experiences that you've had in weeks. 

"Li?" You ask quietly, looking up at him with a little too much vulnerability. 

"Yeah? What is it Hazza?" 

"Are you glad, that you know. Tours over? I mean. Are you ready to get rid of us?" 

Liam legitimately snorts, and you smile. "Like I could ever get rid of you four assholes. You're like a bad rash, it just keeps coming back." 

You think you should probably be a little offended at that, being compared to an annoying rash, but you think nothing of it and scoot over as Zayn and Niall step outside to join you. 

"Yeah, man. We're not really going anywhere. I mean, I may get mums cooking a little more often, but you know that we're about to have press out the ass again, with the album coming out." Zayn explains, and Niall, through reflex, or intuition, puts an arm around your neck in a gesture of solidarity. Fucking Press, you think. They can just take your management team with them and piss right off. The last few weeks have been nothing but a constant barrage of questions, a constant string of lies you've had to weave, over and over and over again. Each time you get asked about Louis, and every time you hide the truth, a part of you splinters and breaks away, and you wonder if, soon, your whole life will be nothing but slivers in the "Things I can't" pile. 

The boys know how much it's been wearing on you, wearing on them as well. It's been a group effort really, trying to hide your relationship and hold your heart together at the same time. 

"I think it will be good. I dunno. I just need to get away for a minute." you say, relaxing into Niall's comforting grip. 

Liam looks at you and nods, understanding. 

"I know, mate. We'll be home soon." 

Your throat begins to tighten with emotion, and you choke it down quickly, shaking your head as you stand up and thrust your foam finger toward the sky. The grin on your face feels so brittle that you're sure its going to shatter at your feet like broken glass, but you hold it, trying your very best to look cheery. 

"Well, lets get back to it, lads." you exclaim, ushering each of your friends back through the door one by one. "And hey, have any of you seen Lou?"

\-------------

You grab yourself another drink, trying to bounce back and drown out the sadness that is trying to worm its way into your heart, and, taking one last look around the room, grab your phone and try Louis' cell. He picks it up on the fourth ring. 

"Lou! Where the hell are you? We haven't seen you in ages. You missed me singing Miley songs!" 

"Haz?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Look about 3 foot to your left, you idiot." 

Shit, you thought you'd heard a phone ringing awfully close to you. Despite the fact that it sounds girly as shit, your heart slams into your ribcage at the sight of him. You jam your phone back into the waistband of your shorts, and all but leap into his arms. 

"LOU, HI!"

"Hi, love." he says, wrapping his black clad arms around you and pulling you closer. He's beautiful, you think as you look up at him. Even with his face painted like some sort of gothic zombie, his eyes shine bright and clear, a perfect shade of blue. 

"Where have you been?" you ask, pulling away and punching him in the arm with mock anger. 

"I've been around." he says, shrugging noncommittally, and pulling you back in. 

"But," you pout despite the fact that you should be acting like someone old enough to be holding the drink still clutched in your hand. "You missed everything!"

Something in his eyes snaps, darkens and heats all at the same time, and for the first time tonight, you remember the scorching look he'd given you at the door. 

"I noticed you hanging out with Grimmy. Hows he?"

It hits you then, the slightly lower pitch of his voice says it all. 

"Why, Louis Tomlinson, is that the scent of jealous bitch in the air?" you ask, laughing breifly, but sobering quickly as you watch his eyes. He's so fucking sexy, and it takes you about three seconds to realize that you're in for it big time. You know he's just holding it together for appearances, keeping his cool, but as soon as you're alone, he's going to pounce. The thought makes your stomach twist in knots. You think maybe you know now what Gemma had been on about all those years. This is something beyond the both of you, and you know it. 

Niall once said that you'd marry Louis. You'd laughed and brushed it off, you'd only known the guy for a couple of months at the time. But now, three years seems to unfold visibly between you, a movie playing in 3D. Every touch, every word, every little second flashes before your eyes, and you realize that Niall had been right. You love Louis more than you've ever loved anyone, and you sincerely hope, that one day, the time would come when you could propose to your boyfriend without fear of losing your career. 

But that night isn't tonight.

Tonight is about the music, the drinks, the fucking searing hot kisses Louis keeps trailing down your neck in the shadows, and the way you feel like you'e hanging seconds from coming unglued right there in a dingy club in Japan. 

Tonight, you're going to be a wrecking ball. You can worry about cleaning up the mess tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own shit or know anyone, so don't sue me. Title from SMS(Bangerz) by Miley Cyrus. Also, this is my first post on here, go easy on me? Thanks for reading!


End file.
